


Christmas Present > Christmas Past

by HappilyInhuman



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: But they both make it better for one another, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Cliche, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, Older Man/Younger Man, THE FLUFFIEST GORLESKA YOU WILL EVER FIND GODDAMMIT, They both have pasts they'd rather not think of, corny af, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 20:32:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5512214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappilyInhuman/pseuds/HappilyInhuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Jerome decorate the Christmas tree. As fluffy as Jim/Jerome could ever possibly get - and more so. Get really for some cliche, pure, unadulterated 100% corny-ness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Present > Christmas Past

Sleep was a misty haze that Jerome was pulled from only momentarily, the sway of the mattress underneath him lightly shaking his body as Jim got up, bringing him back to Earth for one dazed moment at five in the morning.

 

Jim regularly left far before Jerome would ever dream of opening his eyes. Today he didn't though, because the dark eyelashes fluttered and looked up at him as he pressed his lips gently to the maniac's temple. The redhead's lips gave a small quirk before his exhausted eyes gave up on staying open and Jerome was lost to the world again. Jim went and got dressed for work, then he left quarter after five.

  
  


Jerome didn't get into a hot shower until at least nine-thirty. 

 

He stared down at the water as it swirled into the drain, making note that the drain in Jim's shower was a circle comprised of 16 holes. He had counted them out of boredom, something he'd also had a habit of doing in the shower while at the Maniax' hideout. The apartment could be boring when Jim was at work, and so he would waste as much time as possible. He sighed before finishing up his shower hygiene routine and jumping out.

 

He pulled on a pair of boxers before wandering out of the bedroom toward the kitchen, rubbing at his sopping hair with the towel all the way there.

 

He took a bowl of cereal out to the table and sat down. He wished Jim didn't have to work so much, always leaving at crazy hours of the morning. Jerome wished he didn't always wake up to an empty apartment, with nothing to do in it. As he munched on his breakfast his eyes were drawn through the doorway and out into the livingroom.

 

He dropped his spoon and got out of his chair to head into the aforementioned room, where the couch had been moved three feet from where it usually was.

 

Jerome furrowed his eyebrows at the uncommon furniture arrangement and crossed his arms before sighing. Jim had made a space in his livingroom for something, and from the looks of the space needed, it would be something big. He sighed before shrugging his shoulders and heading back to his food. It was a day when Jim told him that he didn't think he would be working too late, and so he'd be home to explain himself soon enough.

 

Jerome went back to the bedroom after eating, and he took no time in trying to entertain himself. He struggled, as there wasn't too much to do around Jim's apartment. He could watch a movie or read a bit, but other than that the pickings were extremely slim.

 

It seemed as though a week had passed before Jim opened the door to the apartment, a little after three in the afternoon. Jerome, who had fallen into a nap about twenty minutes earlier, was startled awake by the sound of Jim's voice calling in from the livingroom.

 

"Jerome? You in the bedroom? Come out here, please!"

 

Jerome rolled over in the warmth of the comforter before yawning and stretching. It took him a few moments to force himself to leave the bed, but once he got up he ran out to Jim, who he could still calling to him. He stopped in his tracks, though, when he saw what Jim was carrying through the kitchen and into the livingroom.

 

"A Christmas tree? I didn't take you for the festive type, Jimmy." Jerome grinned, taking stock of the medium sized Christmas tree. It was a nice tree, a lush deep green and shaped like a teardrop.

 

Jim smiled, “I’ve decorated a tree every year since I was born. I’m not about to stop now!” He joked, “Can you get the stand out of that box right there, Jerome?” He asked, watching as the redhead reluctantly headed over to the storage container and took out the black, metal, three-legged, folded-up contraption.

 

Together they got the tree into its stand and backed up to admire their work.

 

Jerome was about to turn to go back into the bedroom when Jim stopped him, “Where do you think you’re going?” It was the type of tone a chastising parent would use on their child, and Jerome turned back toward Jim, who was raising his eyebrows and gesturing toward the boxes full of lights and ornaments. “We have an entire tree to decorate.”

 

Jerome wanted to bite back at the detective, tell him that he could do whatever he wanted - but a realisation stopped him in his tracks.

 

Seeing Jim standing there, smiling at him near a christmas tree, which he’d just helped him stand, calling Jerome back to him to come decorate with him… It was one of the most domestic scenes he thought he might ever have been a part of. His mother had never been a very loving, festive person, so they’d never had a Christmas tree to decorate together in their trailer-he was sure his mother had even found the idea laughable.

 

Being near the tree with Jim made him think about one of those corny holiday romance movies where there would be a happy couple cuddling near a Christmas tree, the warm glow of the lights on their skin as they smiled at one another before making out. Jerome told himself it made him want to vomit, but physically he couldn’t stop his lips from quirking upward. Damn it. When had Jim made him so mushy?

 

He headed back over to the detective, who was starting to take out a long string of colourful lights before he felt Jerome hug him from behind. Jim released the lights to take hold of the long, slim arms so that he could turn toward him and take him into his arms in return. They held each other closely for several long minutes, Jim kissing behind his ear, against his neck.

 

They didn’t break apart until the body-heat building between their clothed bodies was too much. Sometimes, Jerome realised, the heat could make it too hard to cuddle for very long unless they were...ehem...naked. Jim headed toward the radio, which was sitting on a table nearby, and switched on a station which was playing Christmas music. Suddenly the livingroom was filled with the sound of a young version of Billy Gilman singing “The Christmas Song”

 

As he watched Jim go back to fidgeting with the coloured string of lights he had started to deal with before Jerome had hugged him, the redhead got lost in his thoughts again.

 

He’d been living with Jim for a few months now, after choosing the older man over the MANIAX. It hadn’t been _ too _ a hard decision, and he and the detective had quickly fallen into a comfortable life together. He just hadn’t expected quite so much domesticity so fast, despite the feeling that it inspired in him being a positive one. He’d never known such a comfortable, festive scene, and he was almost afraid to step toward the containers of ornaments, feeling as though he might shatter the atmosphere if he didn’t let Jim lead.

 

He was overtaken by a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach which Jim turned back toward him, gesturing for him to come forward.

 

Jim was sweet about it, not mocking, even though Jerome had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He had never had a Christmas tree of his own to decorate, and so he had no idea how it was done. Jim giggled when Jerome wanted to dip his hands straight into the boxes of shining ornaments. “We have to put on the lights and chains, first, silly.” He said, ruffling the red hair and handing him the string of lights he had just untangled.

 

Jim encouraged him to try to put them up, but he was still uncharacteristically nervous as he approached the tree. When he turned back, uncomfortable, the detective was turned away again - fiddling with another tangled up mess of lights.

 

“I…” He got the man’s attention, “Don’t want to mess it up. My mother never bought us a Christmas tree,” He admitted, seeing the shock on the man’s face that Jerome had never had one, even once. “I have no idea how to do this. Any of this.” When Jerome gestured though, he didn’t gesture simply to the lights and the tree, however. He gestured wildly around him, as though saying that simply being in such a loving environment was confusing enough to begin with.

 

Jim abandoned the string he was working on, realising he’d need to get the kid going. He smiled, grabbing one end of the strand and plugging it into the outlet beside the tree. “You won’t mess it up,” He reassured him, “There isn’t really a right or wrong way to do it.” He paused for a second, thinking, “In fact, Jerome,” He grinned, “You can be as artistic with the tree as you want. Go crazy. It can look like a danger zone if you’d like. Knock yourself out! All in the spirit of Christmas.” That put a big grin on the maniac’s face, his features becoming gleeful as he took up the lights in excitement. Jim just hoped he didn’t live to regret it.

 

The teen experimentally threw one end of the strand haphazardly up onto one of the higher branches as Jim turned away, back to the lights he needed to untangle. There was a large smile stretched across his lips, feeling triumphant that he had gotten the maniac involved in the Christmas preparation.

 

He continued his work on the strands until he’d gotten the other two ready to go up. He turned toward the tree, where Christmas lights had been hung in disorder. The teen was still wrapping one end of the lights, but rather than around the circumference of tree, he was creating a strange rolled up circular pattern on the side of the tree. The tree already looked completely unique, a mess that Jim found strangely appealing. He almost found it endearing, plus, it was an accurate representation of Jerome’s artistic preferences.

 

He watched with raised eyebrows, but also a grin, crossing his arms as Jerome haphazardly hurled the last three feet of the string he was holding up into the upper boughs of the tree - where it sat randomly.

 

He turned toward the older man with an absolutely ecstatic look on his gentle features. The detective headed forward and together they put up the other two strands, Jim still letting Jerome be messy and artistic. Soon the radio had started playing Jingle Bell Rock, and even Jerome couldn’t resist the pull of the music - especially not when Jim took his hand and started pulling him out in the middle of the hardwood floor to dance.

 

Jim sang along to the song as he pulled Jerome against him, rocking their bodies wildly as he slid his arms around the kid’s slim waist. The song was a fast, happy one, and Jerome found himself humming along to it against Jim’s shoulder. He had never really cared for Christmas, the tunes always having just been a reminder of way the other children were given gifts, how his own mother never cared to give him any, and so it had  _ definitely _ never inspired him to dance happily. Christmases had always been just as horrible as the rest of what had been horrible years. Listening to the music with Jim made him happy though, made him feel festive, made him dance.

 

They laughed and held onto one another as they swayed wildly, losing themselves together. They didn’t stop until the song had, both feeling elated.

 

Jim helped him put some chains on the tree afterward, one chain with fake pearls and the other a colourful mess of beading. These were actually put on the tree in what Jim was surprised to see was almost some semblance of order.  _ Some  _ semblance. “You ready to put up some ornaments, Jerome?” He asked, heading over to one of the bins and bringing it a bit closer to the tree.

 

The redhead grinned, “Sure, why not?”

 

The detective started shuffling through the ornaments, taking out random ones and handing them to Jerome. As the kid placed them he couldn’t help but look at the different styles. Some of the ornaments Jim owned were rather generic - but others looked quite unique, clearly taken from his childhood Christmas tree, commemorating different things.  _ Jim’s First Christmas.  _ Was the funniest one, and, Jerome joked, quite vintage. “Gee, when was that? Something like...Almost forty years ago?” He said, grinning at the glare the older man shot at him.

 

“My mother hand-painted that ornament herself, be careful.” Was Jim’s only reply.

 

The redhead watched, suppressing a laugh, as Jim threw an ornament across the livingroom and it shattered. Jerome’s laugh died though, when he realised that for Jim to break that ornament, it must have reminded him of something he didn’t want to remember. He wondered what it had said.

 

As the blonde continued to dig through the bin, the redhead crept across the room to where the ornament had exploded across the room. He picked the big pieces into his hand before pretending he wasn’t interested in looking them, as though he were disinterestedly bringing them to the kitchen to throw them away. When he got into the kitchen though, he looked through the pieces, trying to make out some sort of wording. He could only read: ‘Ji----n---bara---t------------s.’  _ Jim and Barbara’s First Christmas?  _ He guessed.

 

He had never blamed Jim for finding Barbara hard to forget, Hell, Jerome himself had been charmed by her looks when he met her in Arkham - still, to Jerome, Barbara paled next to Jim.

 

He threw the pieces away before heading back into the livingroom and helping Jim put up a few more ornaments. A few moments of silent decorating passed before Jerome turned to the older man. He paused, “You’re still bitter about Barbara?” He asked his boyfriend, wondering if the older man was caught up on the blonde woman, even now.

 

Jim gave him a strange look, like Jerome was even crazier than he had thought he was. “No, I shattered the ornament because I  _ wanted _ her to stay in the past.” He paused, “Plus, I have some  _ new  _ ornaments.” He said. Sure, he and the redhead had only been living together for three months or so, but he had never felt so...comfortable. And yeah, sure, it was still a surprise to him, even then, that being with such a maniac had brought his life such sense. But he didn’t  _ need _ to understand why he and Jerome were made for eachother, he just knew that the crazy teenager was all he needed.

 

He got up and got a bag he’d put down near the door, and inside the craft-store plastic bag was a Christmas Ornament decoration kit - complete with transparent bulbs to decorate.

 

“I know this is corny,” Jim said, “My whole life, though, this is what Christmas was all about - being corny. So we should create our own bulbs, what do you think?” He smiled when the redhead rolled his eyes but nodded, the kid’s eyes betraying his secret glee.

 

The detective took out a blank ornament for himself before handing one to the teen, who immediately grabbed a tube of black to decorate with. The older man took a blue tube of glitter and began to create an ornament as simple as the one he’d destroyed, but better. In his neat his hand he slowly wrote,  _ Jim and Jerome’s First Christmas  _ because he didn’t need to remember Barbara. Jerome was all that really mattered now.

 

He looked over at Jerome, who had a positively mad look on his face. He was clearly up to no good, but was shielding his ornament from view so that Jim couldn’t see what on Earth he was doing. It wasn’t until after Jim had shown Jerome the ornament he had made for the two of them (the teen promptly pretending to vomit), that the maniac finally revealed his ornament. He had written “Jim is SO cliche!” And underneath he’d drawn a pile of vomit.

 

“That’s not funny, Jerome.” The older man told him, though he hung it on a branch near the one he’d made himself.

 

“Then why’d you put it on the tree?” Jerome asked, eyes glimmering with mischief.

 

Jim paused, “Because I guess...at least right now…” He turned around quickly, taking the redhead by surprise and tackling him, “It’s true!” He said, kisses landing haphazardly all over the teenager’s face and neck. The kid couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips as the older man’s fingers traveled and explored his sides before sweeping upward in a tickling motion.

 

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” He said as the older man tickled him, giggle after giggle falling uncontrollably from the teenagers mouth until his lips were sealed firmly against Jim’s.

 

The older man’s arms fell motionless, holding Jerome tightly around the small of his back.

 

“I love you.” The man says when he pulls his lips away, still holding the kid tight, though.

  
“Okay...” Jerome says, looking away from Jim. He wanted to return the sentiment, but also  _ really  _ didn’t want to look as corny as the man before him. “...Same.”


End file.
